My Kind Of Perfect
by gleestud
Summary: Originally written for finchelmonth on Tumblr . AU. Finn and Rachel meet for the first time in rehab. He's drawn to her and she's just there to fix herself so she can return to her life. Little longer than a drabble.


_****__**Disclaimer:**__ Glee is the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. I don't own the characters, but most of the storyline is mine and mine only._

* * *

He's not addicted to sex, he just likes it a lot. That's what he keeps telling himself when they sit in those large group sessions and talk about themselves. It's ridiculous, in all honesty, because if there is one thing that Finn Hudson doesn't like to do, it's talk about himself. He doesn't listen to other people either, but he just doesn't like divulging all his secrets. There's a reason why they're called secrets. Clearly nobody at the rehab center understands that word, because every session they have, they want Finn to talk about why he gave up his entire life for sex. What kind of question is that even? Sex is what makes the world go round. Literally. If it wasn't for sex, then there wouldn't be any people on the planet. All the existing humans would die and that would be it. So yeah, sex is what makes the world go round.

And he hates group therapy sessions. Till she walks in and knocks the wind out of him.

She's enthusiastic about group therapy sessions and she wants to get to know everybody and he knows that the only way he's going to get to know her is if he goes to group therapy. He's going to have to deal with those psychotic people for an hour now, just so that he can get to know her. She's Rachel Barbara Berry - she says that every time she meets someone new - and she's tiny and gorgeous and she's got this mouth that he's pretty sure he could kiss all day and night and her ass…. don't even get him started on her ass. He's supposed to not want sex anymore, since he's been in there for 12 days of his 28 days already. But how is he supposed to not want sex when the epitome of sex on legs just walked into his life?

And she has no clue he even exists. Not when there's that blonde kid doing everything for her.

But he gets his shot when she's sitting on the patio one night after dinner and nervously playing with her hair. She's been in there for six days and he's so close to the end, he can almost taste it. The center has been shocked by his attendance because he's been to six days of therapy and that's a lot for someone who doesn't even want to be there. She's got her long tan legs propped up on the parapet and she's lounging in one of the chairs as she stares at the stars. It takes him a few minutes to actually stop staring at her, because there's just something about her in the moonlight that gets him.  
"Hey."  
"Hi," she turns her head to look at him, "Finn, right?"  
"Right," he rolls his eyes playfully because he's pretty sure that she at least knows his name, "And you're Rachel Barbara Berry."  
"You don't have to say my name like that."  
"Isn't that how you say it?"  
"It's my name, so I can say it however I want to."  
"Of course," he purses his lips and nods, pulling up a chair to sit beside her, "So, what are you in for?"  
"You already know why I'm here."  
"I know the reason you're telling everybody, but not the real reason."  
"What makes you think that I'm not a cutter?"  
"You don't have any marks on your arms or legs and you seem pretty content with who you are."  
"I could be cutting myself in other places."  
"Nope," Finn keeps his eyes on hers and he smiles, "Cutters aren't happy all the time."  
"What are you in for?"  
"If I show you mine, will you show me yours?"  
"Depends."  
"On what?"  
"On what you're here for."

**_xxx_**

They never get to tell each other why they're really there. One of the orderlies finds them outside and ushers them to their rooms muttering something about breaking the rules or something. Finn's been there long enough to know the ins and outs of the place, so once the lights are all out and everybody but Travis at the front desk is locked up, he sneaks out of his room and goes to the cafeteria. He's 28 years old and he still likes to steal food from the kitchen. What he's surprised to find is Rachel sitting on the counter in the kitchen, eating a salad.  
"Good to know that you're a midnight nibbler too."  
"I didn't get much to eat at dinner, I was hungry."  
"I'm not judging you. In fact, I'm impressed. I'm here for the dessert."  
"I don't eat dessert."  
"Everybody eats dessert."  
"Nope, not everybody. Definitely not me."  
He just watches her chew her rabbit food and frowns before pulling open the large refridgerator. Finn grabs two bowls of chocolate pudding and sets them on the counter beside her before pulling open a drawer and picking up two spoons. He holds one out to Rachel and arches an eyebrow as she shakes her head, "Seriously?"  
"Yes, seriously. I'm not a dessert person."  
"Like I said, everybody is a-"  
"Well, I'm not. So stop," she gives him a look and that's when he figures it out.  
"You're bulimic."  
"That's none of your business."  
"It's nothing to be ashamed of."  
"Oh yeah? What's your deal then?"  
"Sex."  
"What?"  
"I love sex. Like a lot. To the point where it started getting out of hand."  
"No pun intended," she asks with a soft chuckle and Finn can't help but smile, "Sorry, that was stupid."  
"That was pretty good, actually. But yeah, it was getting really bad and my friends were worried about me so they tossed me in here."  
"Has it helped? Being here, I mean."  
"What do you think?" Finn leaned against the counter beside Rachel and slowly scooped up bits of the pudding and shoved the spoon in his mouth, "18 days ago, if I'd met you, we'd be naked and on this counter."  
"I'm pretty sure I could resist."  
"You haven't seen me at my finest."  
"I repeat, I'm sure I could resist."  
"That sounds like a challenge."  
"Sure, why not?" He sees the twinkle in her eyes and smiles before turning back to his pudding.  
"Who told you that you're not perfect enough."  
"I don't want to talk about it."  
"You're lying in group therapy just like I am, so you might as well confide in me."  
"Broadway thinks I'm not skinny or perfect or Hollywood enough."  
"Isn't that the point of Broadway? To not be what Hollywood is?"  
"It would be if Hollywood wasn't on Broadway now."  
"So, what did they tell you?"  
"That I needed to get a nose job, that I needed to lose weight, that I needed to tone up and do this and do that and it got a point where I just couldn't stop popping pills and washing them down with alcohol and…-" she pauses and he turns to look at her as she dabs at her face, "I have… no gag reflex and the only way to get anything out is to pump myself full of everything else."  
"No gag reflex?" His mind is swimming and Finn pinches his eyes shut to shake the image of her down on her knees in front of him out of his head.  
"Finn?"  
"Sorry, I just…" he shakes his head and looks at her, "You were saying?"  
"So yeah, there you have it. I love food, but I can't enjoy it because I'm not perfect."

**_xxx_**

He doesn't get to tell her that she is perfect. Sure, he knows next to nothing about her, but she's beautiful. Okay, Finn knows that she doesn't have a gag reflex and has an eating disorder and thinks she's not perfect. But as a person, he knows diddlysquat. And that's okay. Because she's gorgeous. To the point where in group therapy sessions after that, he finds himself staring at her and watching the way her lips curl when she says certain words or the way she waves her arms around when she's explaining something like Broadway and the life she wants to have when she gets out.

On the eve of his last day, he opens his room door to find Rachel standing there with an angelic smile lighting up her beautiful face. "What are you doing here?"  
"You're leaving in a few hours and I thought I'd spend some time with you."  
"You know that you could get caught for sneaking in here."  
"You're my only friend and I want to be able to give you a proper farewell."  
"You're not talking about what I think you're talking about, right?"  
"You're getting out of here for not sexually abusing anyone for 28 days, I'm not about to ruin that run."  
"Well, you could sexually abuse me and it won't count."  
"I'm not really in the mood tonight."  
"Yeah, this place can do that to you," he smiles at her as she crosses her legs and sits on his bed. Finn stare at her a moment before turning back to his half packed suitcase.  
"So, what now?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"You go back into the real world and face your addiction all over again. How are you going to deal with it?"  
"I haven't really thought about it. I just know that I'm not craving sex all the time anymore and that's enough for right now."  
"That's good! I'm proud of you."  
"I'm proud of me too."

They fall into a comfortable silence and even though she should be in her bed when they come for their morning rounds, Finn let's Rachel stay curled up in his arms till the sun comes out. They don't kiss, they don't even hug. They just stay there for a few minutes after his alarm rings and don't even say a word. And when he says that he should shower and get dressed, Rachel's out of his bed and his room like a flash. That's the last he sees of her. Because she doesn't come to say goodbye with the rest of the gang and she doesn't even send a note or message through anyone when he leaves. That's it. Finn's decided that he's never going to see her again and for once in his life, he's missing someone he hardly even knows.

**_xxx_**

_Eight months later_  
He's been in control of his urges for almost eight months now and working behind the bar at his favorite joint helps a lot. He's so busy, he hardly has time to flirt with the leggy girls walking in and out of there in groups. In fact, Finn's not even distracted by them. It's been eight months and the one girl he never kissed or touched in any way is still lingering in his mind. Like perfume that stays in a room long after the person has left. And funnily enough, he's okay with it. Because after she got there, he got better. And now, she's helping him stay sober. She's basically the reason why he's not back in that hell hole.

And he's more than okay with it. Till she walks in and knocks the wind out of him. _Again_.

"What does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?"  
"Flirt with the bartender."  
"I can't do much with this large wooden plank standing between us."  
"Bar rules, ma'am, you've gotta stay on that side and I've gotta stay over here."  
"You can't even make an exception for an old friend?"  
"Come on around," Finn watches her move in that tiny little black dress and he's feeling all these things he hasn't felt in a long time. Eight months without sex is a long time to go for someone who needed it all the time. And he knows that she's taunting him because they both know what they want.  
"Now what?"  
"You're the one who came looking for me, you should be calling the shots."  
"How have the last eight months been?"  
"Different. You?"  
"I got a starring role in a Broadway musical."  
"Have you stopped…. _you know_?"  
"Eight months sober."  
"That makes two of us."  
"If it makes you feel any better, I've been eight months _sober_ too."

**_xxx_**

All that hard work to keep it in his pants flies out the window right that moment and they find themselves pressed against each other in the store room, with her dress bunched up around her waist and his pants and boxers pooled around his ankles as they moan each others names in unison, grabbing and scratching and biting and licking every inch of skin they can. Their bodies are slick with sweat when she slumps against him, her arms and legs still tightly wrapped around his tall frame. She purrs against his skin and he inhales the familiar scent of her perfume before whispering against her neck, "I meant to tell you this before, but you're pretty much the most perfect woman I have ever met in my entire life."


End file.
